


The Winds of Regret

by deltachye



Category: A3! (Video Game)
Genre: Angst, F/M, Getting Back Together, Post-Break Up, Smut, hrhghjakhj i hate him so much that i love him
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-05-29
Updated: 2020-05-29
Packaged: 2021-03-02 18:48:52
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,490
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/24431614
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/deltachye/pseuds/deltachye
Summary: [reader x sakyo furuichi]You’ve been invited to Sakyo’s mother’s birthday party. She adores her son’s girlfriend, after all. It wouldn’t have been a big deal—minus the fact that you and Sakyo broke up. But what’s a little white lie?
Relationships: Furuichi Sakyou/Reader
Kudos: 99





	The Winds of Regret

**Author's Note:**

> this mf never comes home. EVER. he fucking hates me or something.. but i just read act 7 and wept my eyes out so u know what maybe i am in love (sulks

Bad things happen to you when it storms. Your umbrella breaks. Your car stalls. You get splashed by a puddle. Your food’s gone bad. The power at work cuts and your back-up’s corrupted. Etcetera, etcetera… but today had been going oddly well. You’d been on your toes, of course, but nothing out of the ordinary had happened. For once, you thought you’d broken your everlasting curse. Then you felt your phone buzzing as you were getting ready for bed:

 **SAKYO’S MOM**.

Getting a call from your ex’s mother seemed pretty up there for ‘bad things’.

\---

You’ve typed in Sakyo’s number by heart before exiting out more than a dozen times. It’s just not right to lose a person. When you’ve lost something, it’s gone. But when you fall out of touch with a _man_ … your thoughts can’t help but dwell. The simple things remind you of him. You can hardly go without seeing something ordinary and having your thoughts whip back to him. A co-worker would take nureokaki out of her purse for a snack and you’d feel your heart wrenching into a wind storm yet again, each shred of your feelings scattering like torn leaves swirling uselessly in a dust devil. In any case, you never thought that he—proud and stubborn—would be the one to text you first.

 **+81-9097196117** : Are you awake?

Swallowing thickly, you try to temper yourself and replied after a few painful minutes have passed, **“Yes”.**

 **+81-9097196117** : My mother just called.  
 **+81-9097196117** : _typing_ …

You were pacing your apartment, staring at the three dots like it might spur him to text faster. He wasn’t even the type to be on his phone, anyways, and you felt the weight of shameful desperation blanket over your shoulders. But you’ve gone past the point of caring.

 **+81-9097196117** : You don’t have to go. I’ll make up an excuse.  
 **You** : Is that fair?  
 **+81-9097196117** : It’s just her birthday.

You bit on your lip in frustration, pausing in front of your bed. That… had been the whole _point_. Maybe it was just his mother’s birthday to him, but to you? This was your last chance to see him. Talk to him. Ask him _why_.

 **You** : I want to go.

It was a couple of painful minutes before he replied.

 **+81-9097196117** : She doesn’t know that we’re over.

No wonder she sounded so pleased to talk to you, so matter-of-factly sure that you were coming to her birthday party when you hadn’t spoken to her son in a near month now. You didn’t think you were surprised that he hadn’t bothered to let his own mother know. He was the type that kept everything to himself, after all. You knew that full well.

 **You** : I can’t just not go after she asked me so earnestly.  
 **+81-9097196117** : Like I said, you don’t have to do anything at all.  
 **You** : I’m not doing it for you.  
 **+81-9097196117** : She was looking forwards to seeing you… how troublesome  
 **+81-9097196117** : It can’t be helped. I’ll pick you up. But don’t tell her anything.  
 **You** : You want me to lie to her?  
 **+81-9097196117** : Saying nothing doesn’t constitute as a lie.  
 **You** : You said it yourself. We’re over. But she thinks we’re together, right? So it’s lying.  
 **+81-9097196117** : I’ll take care of it. Just go to bed.  
 **+81-9097196117** : You have work early, don’t you.

You shut your phone off and slammed it onto your bedside table so hard it might’ve cracked without the case. Of course he’d nag you in that quietly kind way, as if nothing had happened at all—did he even care? Did he ever think of you the way your thoughts always wound back to him? It already hurt you enough to see him so bluntly remind you of the fact that _we’re over_. Maybe it’d all been a joke to him. Sakyo’s always right—you should’ve listened to him and just moved on.

Thunder rolled outside. You hated the sound. You curled up in bed, alone, wishing.

\---

“You look well.”

You had to bite the tip of your tongue as not to spit some nasty retort back at him. He was the same as ever, sharp, well-dressed in dark business clothes. There was a huge fruit basket sitting in the passenger’s seat, however, and you raised an eyebrow at it.

“Sakoda. You know how he is. Sorry.” He picked it up and placed it in the back, allowing you to climb in. The car was as just you remembered it, too, though its smell was laced with orange citrus.

“You look well, too.” You said it as dryly as he did, though it seemed to bounce right off of him. You tore your eyes away from his amethyst ones, already knowing you wouldn’t find any of the answers you desperately wanted.

“I… am sorry to drag you out. My mother, she…” He trailed off, sounding oddly unsure. Your heart flitted at the apology, but it was bitter, seeing as he wasn’t apologizing for the wake of trespasses he’d committed against you before now. He probably would’ve continued never speaking to you if not for this.

“I think you—we—should tell her the truth. I thought you already had.”

His grimace tightened in the frightful way that reminded you of his… occupation. “I can’t. She adores you. If she found out on her birthday, well…” He sighed tiredly. You wondered what was going on. “I’ll tell her another time. So just play along for now.”

“I’m only doing this for your mother.”

“As it should be.” His gaze coldly flickered over you, making you feel exposed. “Is your seatbelt done?”

You couldn’t help but roll your eyes. “Yes.”

Without another word he pulled back onto the road, settling himself for the hour-long drive. As surreptitiously as possible you stole looks at his face. His side profile was as handsome as you remembered it nestled within the pillows of your bed. He had a permanent scowl, one you’d always warned him would give him wrinkles—

“Is there something you’d like to say?”

You gasped sharply and stared at the glovebox, embarrassed to be caught. A gentle jazz song played on his radio, masking the sound of heavy rain.

“No.”

There were too many things.

\---

“Sakyo-nii!”

His step-sister raced towards him before he’d even gotten out of the car. The storm was lingering over central Tokyo, so there wasn’t much rain out here, yet the wind was still cold. Stiffly, Sakyo managed to catch the little girl as she leapt through the air at him.

“Chinatsu,” he chided sternly, putting her back onto the ground. “You could stand to mind your manners. Besides, you keep getting bigger. You’re heavy.”

“Sakyo-nii will always catch me,” she replied firmly, beaming up at him. Your heart ached as you lingered by the car awkwardly, almost crouching to hide behind it. It was to no avail—the Furuichi matriarch herself came outside to see what was going on.

“Sakyo, you should’ve let me know when you were on your way! You’re early. And [Name]-chan! What are you doing all the way over there?”

“[Name]-nee? Where?” Chinatsu peeked out from behind Sakyo’s lanky frame, her eyes locking onto you. You clicked your tongue. Great—discovered.

“[Name]-nee!” she squealed delightedly as you sheepishly walked towards the entrance. “You’ll do my make-up again, won’t you?”

Your eyes flickered to Sakyo automatically, as if seeking permission. He responded by looking away. You steeled your jaw in disappointment but turned to the young girl with kind eyes, allowing her to take your hand to pull you inside.

“Of course, Natsu-cchi.”

“Yay! Can we do it now? Make me extra pretty, okay?”

“I’m glad to see you,” Sakyo’s mother said spiritedly, stopping you at the doorway before Chinatsu could haul you all the way to her room. Sakyo had suddenly busied himself with the car, but you knew him better than he thought, and he was just the same as you: awkward.

“Me too. It’s been a while. Happy birthday, Furuichi-san.”

“Oh, come on. What’s with all the formality? I told you to call me Shiori, didn’t I?”

“Y-yes…”

“That sorry son of mine. He never calls, never writes… I hoped you’d be better, but I suppose you’re busy too.”

“I got promoted, so… I’m sorry.”

“You did? Ugh! See? These are things my son should tell me about!”

“I didn’t know,” he replied, and you jumped, not realizing when he’d been standing behind you. He gave you a short nod.

“You two…” she sighed. “You’re hopeless. I guess it’s meant to be.”

“Oka-chan, can [Name]-nee and I go now? I want her to do her pretty make-up on me…” Chinatsu’s whining shattered the tension and Shiori nodded, letting you go. For once, you were thankful to be yanked along by a toddler. You heard Sakyo’s low mumble behind you but didn’t dare to turn and look. He was the actor here, not you. It wasn’t your fault that you couldn’t pretend nothing had happened so easily.

\---

Shiori found you hovering by the drinks, having finally escaped Chinatsu’s clutches. The party was in full swing now, each room full to the brim with guests that you barely recognized. She was a popular woman. You didn’t exactly have Sakyo as a crutch for these family gatherings, anymore, so you were trying to find solace in the wines Shirori stocked instead. (The Furuichis have good taste, after all.)

“Darling. Hi.”

“Ah—Shiori-san.”

You winced, trying not to show how much you’d been chugging away absentmindedly. Your face was red enough to show what you were trying to hide. Luckily, she didn’t seem to notice or care, smiling at you fondly instead.

“I’m sorry about my son. He’s 30, but reckless… he’s such a fool.”

“It’s fine,” you replied, though you were confused. “But what are you sorry for?”

“You mean you’re not concerned?” she gasped scandalously. “You’re nearly 30 too, aren’t you?”

“Yes.”

“And he hasn’t proposed to you yet?”

Your heart faltered in your chest and you had to relax your fingers before you shattered the glass in your hand.

“N-No, he hasn’t.”

“I suppose you shouldn’t be listening to a woman who’s been divorced and re-married, but you and Sakyo deserve to be happy. I keep nagging him about it for your sake, y’know.”

“Oh please,” you stammered nervously. “You don’t have to do that. We’re, er…” You gulped. “We’re fine.”

“You say that with the most desolate look,” she sighed, reaching out and brushing her fingers against your cheek to tuck back a stray piece of hair. “You two are so in love with each other. If only he’d grow a pair; I swear I raised him better.”

“Um. Sakyo’s been busy, so take it easy on him.” You were sure that this at least wasn’t a lie—between juggling the yakuza and that theatre company he’d signed onto, he had been spread pretty thin. You weren’t sure what he was up to a month later, but you figured he was being successful in whatever it was. The agony soaked in your heart like cloying syrup: _You two are so in love with each other._

“Well, I’ll let the two of you be. But if you need me to give him another nudge, let me know. He might act all high and mighty, but a son must always listen to his mother.”

“Okay…” You let her go after giving you a kiss on the cheek. Your stomach churned guiltily. At first it seemed all well and good to lie to her. It was harmless. You were just pretending for a night, after all, and it’d be fine after that. But the pain was starting to get nauseating, and you ducked off to find a bathroom.

Sakyo’s eyes followed you across the room.

\---

“The hell am I going to do with you?”

“Go… away.”

He sat on the edge of the tub instead, sighing heavily, the sound resonating in the small bathroom. You lay your head on your arm, collapsed against the toilet. You hadn’t managed to lock the door behind you in time.

“…I didn’t know about your promotion,” he brought up suddenly. You peeked and saw his arms and legs crossed, his head looking straight ahead. “Congratulations.”

“Well, yeah. A lot of things can change in a month.”

He gave you a wary look and you pretended to have been staring at the wall. “Look, I…”

“Forget it,” you sighed, your sorrows echoing back up to you. “It’s over, right? I get it.”

You didn’t, but it was easier than having him tell you that he didn’t love you all over again.

“[Name].”

His voice was a lot lower now; throaty, and raw. You raised your head tiredly and saw that he was kneeling beside you, suddenly very close. Your eyes widened—but then you saw that he was just passing you a cup of tap water. Your heart shattered along with the buds of hope. It hadn’t even recovered yet. How could it break again?

A crack of thunder made you jump. It was the kind of thunder that made walls rattle. The rain had come by a few hours ago, but it was steadily worsening. Hail ravaged the roof in a deafening way. You looked up and saw Sakyo stare back down at you. His mouth opened like he wanted to say something, but then—

“Anybody in there?”

“Occupied,” he called back gruffly, looking away. The moment was lost. You sat up woozily, feeling the tears trace down your cheeks from the gravity. _Dammit._ So much for being a big girl. When he looked back at you, he seemed shocked. “You…”

“Sorry,” you muttered, lowering your gaze. “Just leave me alone. I’ll be fine in a few minutes.”

“I can’t just—”

“But you can, can’t you?” you antagonized, almost cruel, but what choice did you have? “You already have.” You stared at his fingers tighten around the cup as you refused to take it. Finally, he set it back down on the counter. You let out a short breath of relief, but it was mistakenly early, catching in your throat when you felt familiarly strong arm wrap around your torso.

“You can stand, right?” His voice was quiet despite being right next to your ear. You felt your world shifting and allowed him to haul you to your feet. Unsteadily, you didn’t know what else to do but follow, trapped in the circle of his arms. His hands slid from your back to your arms, and then finally away, leaving nothing but residual warmth. He raised his hand like he might touch your face, and you held your breath, but then—

“I’ll take you home. I’ll let my mother know you’re feeling ill.”

His hand closed into a fist and he turned away, opening the door and shutting it behind him. You couldn’t find it within you to ask him to stay. You let him go without a fight.

\---

“Oh, absolutely not. You will not go against your mother’s word.”

“But _Mother_ —”

“[Name]-chan.” Shiori saw you emerge into the living room blankly and waved you over. You didn’t exactly feel like butting into what looked like a heated Furuichi discussion, but reluctantly, you plodded over. “Talk some sense into this man. There’s no way you’re driving back to Tokyo in this storm!”

“What?”

As if to prove her point, lightning streaked across the sky, immediately followed by an Earth-shattering rumble that made you grab onto the nearest thing for support. The nearest thing was Sakyo’s arm. Quickly, you let go, hugging yourself instead.

“Besides, you’re so pale… you’re worse than he let on. I’ve already told him that the two of you can use his old room to stay in. It’s a guest room now, anyways.”

“O-oh, um.” You were starting to see why Sakyo was so distressed now, but what could you do? Insist on trucking out to the city with a damn near typhoon hailing onto you? Besides, it’d be odd for a couple not to room together. The house was already a lot less empty and lively than it’d been this evening. Most of the guests had already gone home it seemed.

“Go on to bed and get some rest. I’ll make you some ginger tea straight away.”

“Please don’t go through the trouble.”

“Nonsense. Anything for family. Sakyo; go get the room set up for her, would you?”

“I’m telling you…” he attempted, but it was futile. Shiori glowered at him.

“I’m not asking.”

Only one person could bend the yakuza under her thumb like this. You figured it’s where he got it from. Sakyo winced, giving you an apologetic look before obediently trudging away to the stairs.

“I hate to trouble you when you’re not feeling well, but my husband’s out moving the cars so that they don’t get damaged. Could you take Natsu up to her room?”

“Natsu?” You looked around and then saw her curled up on the couch, fast asleep. It was past her bedtime, after all. “I’m surprised to see she can sleep so well through a storm like this.”

“Ah, you know. The younger you are, the fewer worries you have.”

_Ain’t that the truth._

“I’ll have Sakyo take the tea up to you, so don’t worry about a thing. Just rest.”

You hated to apologize again, so you nodded thanks instead. Scooping the young girl up into your arms, you climbed the stairs. Sakyo’s childhood home… you hadn’t seen much of it besides the places Chinatsu would parade you through. When you and Sakyo had actually been together, he’d only ever take you to see his mother for family events like Christmas. Even then, those were strictly day trips. You hadn’t ever seen his old room before. You lay Chinatsu into her bed, pulling up her blanket to her chin. An urge came across you to kiss her on the forehead, but what right did you have to do that? He’d said it himself, over and over, _today is just pretend._

Sakyo’s room was further down the hall, judging by the light filtering through the crack. You hesitated outside, but the situation had already unfolded and there was no going back. With a sigh, you knocked awkwardly.

“Come in.”

You did, stepping inside. It regular sized you supposed, though a bit on the smaller side. You looked around curiously, unable to help yourself. The walls were bare, no kiddy-like posters or school memorabilia to be seen. The single double-bed was made and everything else was neat. No traces of his past remained.

“Do you need a change of clothes?” he asked flatly. “I have some things from high school that would probably fit. I’m sure my mother would lend you something if you’d rather that.”

“That’s fine… I’ll borrow something. If you don’t mind.” Your jeans were far too constrictive for you to act high and mighty and you’d hate to inconvenience his mother more than you already had. He turned to the drawer and rummaged through, before tossing you a bundle of clothes. You caught them and looked down at the plain white tee-shirt and gym shorts.

“I’m sorry about this,” he muttered all of the sudden, sounding genuinely remorseful. “I didn’t think she’d make us stay overnight.”

“That’s okay.” The hail angrily pelting the window punctuated what didn’t need to be said. “It couldn’t be helped.”

“Well… go change. You’re still feeling sick, right?”

You were a lot better now that you’d gotten most of it up, but you still felt pallid. Thing just weren’t the same as you got older. Still, you thought you’d been doing a pretty good job of hiding it. His eyes gleamed disapprovingly behind his blue glasses.

“Go.” His voice, ever authoritative, had you turning tail before you could even put up a fight.

When you came back, Sakyo had dressed down to his sweater and pants, jacket and blazer laid on the back of a chair by an old desk. His clothes fit loosely on you; even as a high-schooler, he was bigger than you, and you had to tie his shorts as tightly as they could go to prevent them from slipping down your legs. It smelled of old laundry detergent, but you were embarrassed to admit how much you—a grown woman—enjoyed the idea of wearing a man’s clothes.

“I hate to break it to you,” he said, having to speak up over the sound of storm, “but we’ll have to share the bed.”

You must’ve blanched too hard and it made him scowl. “It’s a hardwood floor and there’s no spare futon. What? You’re going to ask me to sleep on the floor anyways?”

“No, I just… are _you_ okay with this?”

He looked taken aback by your concern and looked away—oh my God, was he blushing? Yes; a familiar pink flush highlighted his cheeks.

“Only if you are. If you actually want me to take the floor, that’s fine.”

So it’d just been a front. Despite how cold he’d become towards you, he was still the same.

“It’s fine.”

“Then you should get in bed. It’s late. And you need to make up for the strength you lost. Here—my mother’s ginger tea.”

“Mm… thanks.” You accepted the warm mug from him, unlike the glass of water you’d rejected in the washroom. You took a sip, the calming spice warming your stomach comfortingly. The two of you sat on the bed together, but you noticed how much space he’d put down between the two of you. Quietly, you drank, and he… did something in the time. You didn’t know, too scared to look.

“Sakyo. Can I ask you something?”

He sighed through his nose, though it wasn’t hostile. “Depends.”

“Why…” It strained your voice, but you swallowed, whispering it anyways. “Why did you end things with me? Was it my fault? Was I not good enough or something…?”

You stared at the empty mug in your hands. His breathing seemed so loud in the quiet room.

“…it’s not that.”

Your head snapped up and you looked at him, hurdling over your own fear. He had _never_ been so liberal when speaking about this before. You hardly remembered the day, your memories addled with grief, but for whatever reason unknown to you he had cut things off. You had always known he was a difficult man, but that had been different, like he was consciously shooing you out of his life to lock the door behind you. He’d up and left without a word, telling you not to speak with him because things were over. Desperate, you’d even reached out to his lackie Sakoda Ken, but even he had brushed you off (though he was more expressive about how it seemed to affect him to do it).

“Then what was it? I deserve to know, don’t I?!”

“Right. You’ve always been so demanding.” He closed his eyes and took his glasses off, rubbing the bridge of his nose. You held your breath in anticipation. He spoke in a calm, non-committal voice.

“You know my line of work.”

“How could I not?” Probably not the best time to be a wise-ass, but you couldn’t help it. He didn’t take it badly and snorted with amusement instead.

“Then you know—it’s not safe for people like you to be around me.”

You frowned. “But you think it’s safe for kids like Azami?”

He groaned. “There’s no need to bring Bon up when he’s not even around…”

“How could I not?” you argued heatedly. “You always push me away! I’m a part of these people’s lives too, aren’t I?! You _made_ me a part of their lives! The only way it’d be right for you to keep doing this to me is if you don’t love me, so—do you? Or don’t you?”

His eyes slowly moved to yours, raw without the filter of those blue lenses. You held your ground even though tears were stinging at the back of your eyes.

“Because I never stopped loving you,” you breathed, and finally your voice cracked with the strain.

“[Name]…” He closed his eyes and then looked away from you, like physical distance might sever the connection. “I just told you why I can’t. You don’t get it—I’m not fucking around. It’s real danger.”

“I accept it,” you insisted, tears fully flowing now. “I accept _you_. I wouldn’t put up with you if I didn’t. You’re a terrible, horrible guy, but I still love you, so why can’t you just—mmfgh.”

His lips over yours were salted by your own tears, but you accepted his embrace without a fibre of resistance. It felt so _good_ to be his again and you absolutely melted, breathless, floating—only coming back to yourself when you were staring up at him, your back sinking into the mattress below his weight. His gaze was tortured and your heart ached for him.

“You’re terrible, too,” he murmured, but his voice grated with emotion. “Taunting me like this. Everything I’ve done has been for your own good. To protect you.”

“You don’t get to tell me what I can or cannot do,” you breathed, reaching up. You combed your fingers through his fair blond hair, relishing the way he winced under your touch. Your grip curled at the back of his head and you pulled, yanking him down towards you. This kiss—it was harsh, teeth on teeth, a month of missed passion layering atop each other onto a crushingly heavy weight. You gasped as he nipped at your neck, your shoulder, your ear, your lips… God, you had missed this. You had missed _him_.

“I told you,” he breathed heavily, labouring as he stared down at you with hungry eyes. The flames ignited beneath them made you shiver in their heat. “So now you are absolutely not allowed to go back on your word. You hear me?”

You laughed at the face of his threat. “Yes, love. I hear you.”

Your giggles died when his teeth latched onto your throat. Reflexively, your back arched up into his body. You’d wanted him so much for so long it was like your body was moving without your mind. There’d be nobody else that could elicit such a visceral reaction from you just by a touch. His hand was cool against your stomach and you flinched, gasping, allowing him to slip his shirt off of your body. Your own fingers curled beneath the hem of his black sweater.

Another moan bordering a whimper escaped you when his warm bare skin pressed against yours. It was kind of embarrassing, actually, how desperately you wanted him. But Sakyo was Sakyo. He was harsh and rough around his edges. He liked to play with bubble wrap. He beat the shit out of people for a living and was a vicious loan shark. He used to buy you flowers and leave them in your room when you worked late and wouldn’t see him.

He was finally yours again.

“I’ve missed you,” he whispered suddenly into your ear, deftly unclasping your bra with one hand. The other was holding yours tightly, pinned by your head. “More than you can imagine.”

“Me too.”

Caged beneath his body, you could only stare up at him as he looked down at you, surveying your body with a calm expression that made heat rise to your face. Your hand twitched in his.

“Sakyo,” you whined, annoyed that he’d stopped. His face split into an uncharacteristic smile.

“Show me just how much you’ve missed me.”

Your eyes flashed and then you squeezed them shut, pressing your lips together to muffle the strangled groan in your throat. Your hips bucked up into his hand, the one that had suddenly shot down into your (his) shorts.

“You’re already like this?” he whispered ruthlessly. “You’re needier than I thought.”

“D-don’t tease me… you bastard…” You bit onto the back of your hand, choking hard on your wispy breaths. He was right—you’d been so frustrated, so lonely and lost, so _without him_ that you were sensitive enough to feel the bud of climax blooming in your chest even after the slightest of his touches. Your heart soared when he looked at you like that, eyes dark and heavy. Your hands didn’t cut it. His fingers were so long. Adoring. “Mm…!”

“Show me,” he hissed lowly, commandingly, “show me that you’re mine.”

Your breathing was heavy as you came down, eyes full of hot tears. For once these weren’t out of grief, and he’d never looked more beautiful. You’d always known he was a handsome guy, but now that he was in your hands again after a month of resentful yearning—

“I love you, Sakyo.”

He looked just as surprised as you to hear it said. But he was quick to change his facial expression, and it softened wryly.

“And I you, my precious idiot girl.”

It was quick work to slide your pants off. His belt jangled quietly in the room, still only lit by that lamp sitting on his desk. Maybe you should feel more weirded out to be getting screwed in his childhood room, but he didn’t spare you any time for free thought, a familiar heat pressing against your thigh.

“Do you…?”

“It’s a bit late to be asking that,” you teased. His expression was surly—how cute. You cupped his face in your hands once more. “But yes. I want you. I’m okay.”

“Good answer.” He slid into you and your breath waned, ecstasy heating up your blood. This. God, yes. You had missed this so, so much.

“You,” he breathed, his eyes fluttering shut. You took this moment to watch him, memorizing the delicate lines of his pleasured face and all of his vulnerabilities. He’d hidden them from you, afraid. It’d been for your own good, but if you didn’t like trouble, you wouldn’t have been chasing him in the first place. Your hand reached up and you traced the moles under his eyes with your thumb. His hips rocked slow into yours, the bed creaking beneath the two of you, and then he snapped into you _hard_. You shuddered and dropped your hand to cover your mouth with your palm.

He so loved to tease you about being needy, but you could tell he was the same. His deltoids were tense beneath your fingers, goosebumps rising on his skin as you trailed the length of his arm with the flats of your nails. You whispered his name urgently, enjoying the way he’d respond with a growl, words completely lost to carnal lust. You lost yourself to your body, time and cognitive thought fading away as you dedicated your focus to him. Your lover treated you so roughly, so unfairly, but you let him. You always would. With your body tense around his for the second? Third time? He finally gave himself to you, his teeth sinking hard into your shoulder to mask his almost pained shudder.

Always prepared, Sakyo managed to reach for the old shirt and mopped everything up without a trace. You slipped into his sweater while he did, cozying up to his scent wrapped around you. Quietly, the two of you lay down together, hazy in the flush of exhaustion and hormones. Being held felt nearly as good as the wringer he’d just put you through.

“My mother’s been hounding me on proposing to you,” he murmured all of the sudden while stroking your hair. “Take responsibility.”

“What do you expect me to take responsibility for…?” You yawned sleepily, the warmth of his arms secure. His face pressed into the side of your neck, nose cool against your hot skin.

“…just wait a little longer.”

“What?” You tried to turn your head back to face him, but he kept his own hidden away, tucked so close to you that you couldn’t see his expression.

“Don’t make me repeat myself,” he grumbled. “I’m saying it has to be perfect. I’m not going to half-ass something.”

“Oh.” _Oh._ The unadulterated joy flooded through you, but you had to resist the urge to sock him in the nose for telling it to you like this. What a Sakyo-like proposal. “You don’t have to be such a perfectionist all the time.”

“If it’s not perfect for you, there’s no point. Besides… I wasn’t sure yet. I am now.” His hold tightened around you. Your smile felt like it was glowing.

“Okay. Then I’ll wait. But keep me waiting for too long and I’ll leave again.”

“Don’t. You’re not allowed.”

“ _You_ were the one who—”

He reached up, turning your chin, and kissed the words right out of your mouth. The storm raged on outside, but you figured you’d gotten pretty lucky this time around. When the thunder rorared, you didn’t hate it as much.

**Author's Note:**

> deltachye.tumblr.com


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